


Your Hair is Dumb

by lemoninagin



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Dyed hair, M/M, heavy head petting, i'm sorry i don't know how else to describe this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5873830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemoninagin/pseuds/lemoninagin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only Shizuo could get pissed off from seeing a colorful insect</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Hair is Dumb

**Author's Note:**

> This was based off a [prompt from tumblr](http://lemoninagin.tumblr.com/post/138457552422/you-know-what-would-be-cool-if-izaya-died-his), where someone suggested that Izaya have a [secret metamorphmagmus hairstyle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVgKNW_vWP8) and Shizuo chases him because he likes seeing the color. I got a bit carried away and gave him a lot of different shades, because it just seemed...Izaya-like to go all out.
> 
> Anywho, this is dedicated to the brilliant [lastlightatdusk](http://lastlightatdusk.tumblr.com/), whose [shizaya](http://lastlightatdusk.tumblr.com/tagged/shizaya) stories are amazing and you should definitely read them too.

The chase started at sunset.

It wasn’t _entirely_ planned, though it wasn’t entirely coincidence, either.

Shizuo knew better than to take that bait, grab it between his teeth like a fish stuck on a hook and allow himself to be pulled along by an overgrown insect – but as far as Izaya knew, _he_ was the one with the pole clutched between his hands.

Giddy with the feeling of being a fine fisherman, currently the informant was racing fast along a path towards the deep orange glow of the setting sun, the wind whipping his hair to and fro, fanning out this way and that.

As it fluttered mockingly in front of Shizuo, who was only a few strides behind him wielding a stop sign somewhat halfheartedly, he felt an even greater rage surge through him as he carefully watched the color spill from the strands.

The sunset was a pretty one, outlined with rivers of magenta and crimson that crisscrossed the sky. As Izaya kept creeping towards its horizon, colored light poured down and settled golden on his scalp, illuminating the hues that had previously been hidden.

Blues, pinks, purples, reds – even a shade of green! Did the tick never know the meaning of moderation? And now, they were all sparkling with an intensity in the picturesque scene that was even more blinding than usual since Shizuo had discovered the sneaky change.

Shizuo was dumbfounded that first time when he gave chase and Izaya’s normally dark strands ruffled wildly to reveal a glorious rainbow, one that continued to intrigue him to the point he’d even started seeking out Izaya instead, pretending that they had by chance just run into each other.

Well, Izaya didn’t have to try very hard to get him to follow (only a slight difference, not like Shizuo was hard to provoke in the first place), and if he noticed that subtle change at all he’d at least been polite enough not to point it out.

Izaya zipped around a corner, a bolt of mismatched colors streaming fast together until they disappeared from Shizuo’s sight. Growling, Shizuo followed close behind, recognizing that Izaya had just led them down an alley, which he thought to be somewhat odd.

It was a dead end, and Shizuo skidded to a halt abruptly, confused. He’d thought that Izaya would have had the sense to start scaling the buildings, maybe find a ledge he could jettison his stupid self off of, but instead the damn tick was just standing there, arms spread wide and chest heaving.

“Ah, well I guess you caught me for once, Shizu-chan! Congratulations are in order I’m sure, this truly is a victory worthy of a protozoan,” Izaya said happily in between huffing out heavy breaths, withdrawing his switchblade from his pocket and pointing it towards Shizuo, “Oh, but maybe if I give you a congratulatory cake or something of that nature, you’ll let me go, ne?”

Shizuo stood uncharacteristically silent, glare still plastered on his face. He could think of a few choice words to say to the brat, but instead he decided to let out the thought that had been plaguing him for the past few weeks.

“Your hair…is dumb.”

Izaya lowered his blade, smile beginning to fade. “Eh?”

“It’s stupid! So fucking stupid! I really, really hate it.”

Izaya frowned, snapped his blade shut, and stuffed his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the brick wall with one leg propped up on it. If Shizuo wanted to chat about something trivial instead, he decided it was worth the exciting risk to be unarmed around the great beast of Ikebukuro.

“Well, that’s not very nice, Shizu-chan. What did my hair ever do to _you_?”

Shizuo clenched his fists, too angry to keep the brutally honest words from falling off his lips any longer.

“It’s too fucking pretty, is what it is!” he spat, belligerent and seething, and Izaya’s eyes went comically wide. “It pisses me off. Change it back to how it was!”

Izaya recovered quick, scrutinizing Shizuo’s expression and chuckling lightly.

“Oh? You like it then, huh?”

“ _No_! Don’t put words in my mouth. I _hate_ it!” Shizuo shouted - trying to convey how much he hated it, hated it, hated it, _definitely_ hated it while rationalizing the heavy pounding in his chest as just being from the aftermath of the chase. Izaya’s lips quirked with another giggle as he tilted his head, a bit of hair falling forward and revealing a ribbon of lavender.

Shizuo breathed in shakily. “It’s the worst thing you’ve done recently…absolutely d-disgusting!”

Izaya sighed, inspecting his nails absently. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m a disgusting insect. Whatever you say, Shizu-chan.”

His gaze traveled back to Shizuo, enjoying the spread of a rosy flush adorning his cheeks. Well, this was an interesting turn of events. Thinking of a better way to toy with him as it seemed Shizuo wasn’t about to beat him up like he’d assumed he would, Izaya pushed himself off the brick with his foot and crept closer to Shizuo, eyes glinting mischievously in the waning light of approaching dusk.

Shizuo automatically took a step back, gulping down the lump in his throat as Izaya maintained eye contact while he steadily ran a hand through his locks, displaying a rainbow of silk beneath the surface. He slunk towards him with a sway to his hips and Shizuo watched intently as magenta morphed to various shades of purple and then to turquoise rapidly, glinting beneath his hand and molding into a much more beautiful sunset than the one fading above them.

One Shizuo might have liked to observe forever.

Izaya twirled a few strands between his fingers deftly, fountains of blue and purple bursting in contrast against pale ivory. Shizuo followed every movement entranced, as though he was watching his favorite tv show and not his enemy flamboyantly playing with his hair like he was in some perverted herbal essences commercial. Izaya suddenly removed his hand and shoved them both back into his pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He tipped his chin up, sharp eyed gaze boring into Shizuo’s bewildered one.

“Hey,” Izaya said softly after a moment, and there was that _cute_ head tilt again, which Shizuo cursed at himself inwardly for attaching such a gross description, “I don’t want to be the only one having a bit of fun here. Wouldn’t Shizu-chan like to touch it, too?”

Izaya let the words drip out, slow and smooth, an underlying suggestion there that rolled easily off his tongue.

Shizuo gaped for a moment, not sure how to go about answering such a strange invitation.

Were they…still talking about hair?

 _Oh god_ , he hoped they were still talking about hair.

“I, uh…fuck, no! I mean… _maybe_ , but only,” Shizuo croaked, clearing his throat as his voice cracked over the syllables. “… _only_ because I want to…prove that it sucks. Like, a lot.”

Izaya didn’t respond, merely shifted so that he was standing still and upright. He stepped forward once more, close enough so that Shizuo could reach out and touch him. It was an uncharacteristically trusting gesture - and from the _flea_ , of all people. Shizuo could have simply snapped his neck right then and there, or maybe ripped his dumb, pretty hair clean off his scalp if he really wanted to.

But he didn’t, and looking at Izaya’s confident posture towards him, he had a feeling Izaya knew he _wouldn’t_ , either.

Izaya bent his neck slightly, offering the top of his head, and Shizuo prayed that no one would happen to stumble across the weirdest sight in the world.

It started as an awkward pat, which really was the only sort of touch Shizuo had done to another person, and he’d been about to pull away quickly and insult him (“It’s super greasy and full of dandruff and lice, as I figured” was what he’d originally had in mind) until Izaya laughed and stoked that bit of fire burning hot under his skin again.

 _Fine_ , if the tick really wanted him to touch him, he’d _touch him_.

Arm shaking despite his cocky thoughts, Shizuo relaxed his hand so he could grasp onto some strands, turning them over and over gently in his palm. A cascade of pigment poured underneath his trembling fingers, damp with nervous sweat as he stroked through it tentatively, and he swore he felt Izaya lean up into the touch.

His hair was just as soft as it had looked this whole time, and Shizuo leaned forward more, inhaling deeply at the top of his scalp before he could stop himself. He’d been wondering for a while if maybe it somehow smelled nice, too, despite Izaya reeking with that petulant scent everywhere else. Izaya tensed a bit at that, a surprised ‘oh’ leaving his lips which Shizuo ignored as a sweet scent did indeed waft up and wash over him. His grip tightened on his locks as he focused on breathing in the heady aroma.

It smelled familiar, warm and inviting and…

…a lot like strawberries…?

This was ridiculous.

Shizuo really _should have_ just let go, _should have_ just walked away, but he couldn’t – instead, for whatever fucked up reason, he started scratching the damned louse’s scalp. The scratching, though hesitant, turned into light massaging as Shizuo was slightly afraid of hurting him in case he applied too much pressure with his nails. He massaged gently – massaging was good, easier to gauge with his strength.

This was the only natural response to such a situation, _of course_ , Shizuo tried to reassure himself.

Shizuo Heiwajima was a simple man of simple pleasures, and Izaya was warm, soft, smelled nice, and in that instant, sort of reminded him of a cat. As if trying to live up to that comparison, Izaya let out a low noise in response that might as well have been a goddamn purr.

Shizuo instantly froze and Izaya gave a disgruntled grunt, nudging his hand with a shake of his head to send an indirect message of ‘continue petting me’ or ‘back the fuck off’ – Shizuo never had been good at reading cats, considering himself to be more of a dog person.

Deciding to go with 'continue petting me’ after a few seconds of Izaya not moving from his position, Shizuo fluffed the strands again, delighting in the shimmer it gave despite the sun having completely set now. Shizuo’s fingers trailed down slowly, circling at a spot above Izaya’s ear and rubbing absently. Izaya cocked his head back, and Shizuo was startled by the red adorning his cheeks.

Well, wasn’t this just the most colorful insect he’d ever seen.

For a moment they both stared, and Shizuo couldn’t help his line of sight to be drawn down to the curve of Izaya’s full lips, which were parted just the tiniest bit. Izaya’s expression, though clearly embarrassed, was otherwise inscrutable. Shizuo tucked some loose strands behind Izaya’s ear, brushing them away from his face, and his fingers automatically traveled to the smooth flesh of his cheek, lingering with an extremely light touch. He leaned in, tipping up Izaya’s chin and drawn to move closer to him, until he felt the sharp edge of a blade being pressed against his thigh and finally snapped out of whatever the fuck he’d been doing.

Quickly removing his hand as if he’d been burned (and his skin, for sure, did feel like it was on _fire),_ Shizuo backed off.

“Don’t get carried away now, Shizu-chan,” Izaya murmured, voice lowered to a dangerous whisper that shocked a thrill of something to coil even hotter down Shizuo’s spine. “Beasts have to earn the right for more.”

“I…uh…”

“I do _not_ change things about myself to cater to others, so if you hate how my hair looks, then you’re just going to have to deal with it, yeah?”

Shizuo raised his shaking hand behind his head to scratch his neck, suddenly tongue-tied. Izaya dragged his blade up and around to Shizuo’s navel, pressing with just enough pressure to pop a button off and send it flying.

The ends of Shizuo’s shirt parted, and Shizuo _still_ couldn’t manage to drum enough energy to be angry. He felt some other emotion he couldn’t quite place, strange and new, rise within him. Izaya’s gaze was cool and calm as he stared at him levelly, lazily circling the tip of the cool metal around Shizuo’s exposed stomach, leaving light red marks.

“Understood?” he hissed, and Shizuo didn’t need to be told twice.

“Ah, y-yeah…”

“Good.” Izaya’s charming smile was reset into place, clicking together with an almost audible grating noise. He removed his knife, and Shizuo let out a sigh of relief. Izaya took a few steps back, clapping his hands together happily and then tilting forward to bow with more of a mocking manner than a manner of respect. “Glad we could have a reasonable talk for once, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo continued to stand stiffly, eyes traveling back to the now dark mop of hair on Izaya’s head. Izaya began to walk away, twirling the handle of his knife between his fingers as he passed by the stunned blond. Shizuo spun around to watch him, hoping to catch one last glimpse of the sunset.

“Oh, and one last thing…”

Izaya pivoted fluidly on his heel, creeping back towards Shizuo again. He lifted his blade to his chin, cocking his head against it, and for one brief, horrifying second Shizuo was almost sure that he was going to drag it across his throat.

“If Shizu-chan wants to _touch_ me again,” Izaya licked his lips, and whether it was an unconscious or conscious movement, Shizuo wasn’t so sure. “Then I guess he’ll just have to _catch_ me again, ne?”

And with that, Shizuo found himself staring numbly, weak kneed, at the retreating form of Izaya bathed in moonlight as he darted out into the street, watching the palette roll with the swish of his hair, back and forth until it was only a pin prick of a memory before it disappeared altogether.

**Author's Note:**

> What body part will I make these two idiots obsessed with next? Ah, who knows...


End file.
